


Gorgeous

by quarterleigh



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Body Swap, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 22:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17130101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quarterleigh/pseuds/quarterleigh
Summary: "Have we switched bodies? Or have we switched brains?" Phil asks. It's such an odd thing to say- such a Phil thing to say, that it startles a laugh out of Dan. "Think about it."Dan and Phil swap bodies for a day.





	Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melapplesphan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melapplesphan/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, melapplesphan! I was stoked when I saw that you had prompted a body swap fic, because this is a trope I love. I hope I have done it justice and that you like it!  
> Thank you to my awesome beta! You made this better.  
> A slight warning for all readers: this fic contains some non-graphic discussion of body image issues and depression. Take care of yourself and give it a skip if you are sensitive to that. <3

  At first, Dan thinks he's going blind. It's early on a Sunday morning, early enough that the sun is casting long shadows on their blurry bedroom floor, and he's slipping into a panic. "Phil," he croaks, blinking rapidly and rubbing his eyes. "Phil, wake up!" There's something off about his voice. The words feel strange in his throat, as if his mouth wants to shape them differently. 

  "Mm, what?" Phil hums from the left side of the bed. Dan's side of the bed. He feels his confusion settle firmly into a sick horror at the bottom of his stomach. "What?" Phil repeats, his eyes fluttering open. There's a moment of stillness as they take in the sight of each other, and then Phil gasps so violently that he tips backwards off the bed. 

  "Jesus," Dan exclaims, leaning over the bed to grab at Phil's- at his _own_ \- arm and pulling him to his feet. "What the fuck is happening?" Phil just stares back, mouth agape. "This is a dream, right? Phil. Tell me this is a dream."

  "Sure," says Phil, faintly and in Dan's voice. His eyes are darting back and forth across Dan's face. "It's a dream." He lifts a hand to Dan's face and lightly runs a fingertip over his left eyebrow. "You... you are Dan in there, right?" 

  "Who the fuck else would it be?" Dan can feel himself trembling, but doesn't notice the tears in his eyes until Phil pulls him into an embrace and asks him not to cry. 

  "Don't cry. We'll fix it. Please don't cry," he murmurs, running a hand up and down his back. For all of his anxieties, Phil has always been impressively calm in moments of true crisis. 

  "Fix it? We've switched bodies, Phil! How are we meant to fix it?"

  "Have we switched bodies? Or have we switched _brains_?" Phil asks. It's such an odd thing to say- such a _Phil_ thing to say, that it startles a laugh out of Dan. "Think about it." 

  "I can't believe you. We could be stuck like this forever, and you're already on to the philosophical implications of switching consciousnesses." 

  "I'm on to the _Phil_ -osphical-" 

  "Please stop," Dan says, inexplicably smiling. 

  "There he is," says Phil softly, dragging a knuckle across Dan's lips. It's strange; Dan has spent a lot of his life looking at his own face. As a teenager, he would sit on the bathroom counter, legs crossed and knees pressed against the mirror, just staring at himself. He would take dozens of selfies in an afternoon so that he could see himself from every angle, and then delete them all. As an adult, he spends hours at a time hunched over in the dark, editing footage of himself. Watching the same clips over and over and over again to get it right. He's seen every expression he thought his face was capable of making. Now, looking at his face, into his own eyes, all he can see it Phil. The close-lipped but genuine smile, the squint of his eyes. It's so undeniably Phil.

  "I love you," he says without thinking.

  "I love you," Phil parrots with an easy grin. "Do you want to go back to sleep?" He couldn't sleep now if he wanted to, but that's not actually what Phil wants to know. Dan knows what he's really asking. _Is this too much? Is today a bad day?_ Dan used to snap at him when he asked outright, so Phil finds his way around it. Now it's usually _Are you tired?_ or _Do you want me to run you a bath?_ or _How hungry are you?_

  "No, it's okay. I'm okay," Dan says. "Let's figure this out." 

.

   Phil is a disaster all morning.  He trips twice on his way to the bathroom and nearly bangs his head into the medicine cabinet before accidentally putting one of his contact lenses in. "Are you going to give me an eye fungus now? Oh god, what if you die in my body, what happens then?" Dan moans. "Why would you even do that?" 

  "I'm sorry! It was habit!" He says. "Here, do you want me to help you put them on?" 

  "No, I don't want to wear your infected lenses, Phil!"

  "They're not infected! Here, let me," Phil laughs as he reaches towards Dan with a lens balanced on his pointer finger. Dan yelps and knocks his hand away, the lens sliding off and onto the floor.

  "Dan!" Phil gasps in mock offense. He glances down. "Well, now that's gone forever."

  "Shit, sorry," Dan says. "I'd help you look for it but I can't see."

  "Maybe _this_ is what the universe wanted. For you to experience the frustration of poor vision. Now I understand," Phil says as he walks back into their bedroom to retrieve his glasses. 

  "I know you're joking, but do you actually think this is some sort of cosmic lesson? Is this like in _Freaky Friday_ when they have to learn to appreciate each other?" Dan asks, following behind. 

  "Erm, I really don't think it's that. I already appreciate you loads," Phil says, placing the glasses onto Dan's face for him. "You know that, right? And you already love me more than I deserve."

  "Don't say that. That's not true," Dan says. 

  "I'm kidding," Phil says. "What I mean is that... whatever reason this happened to us, it's got nothing to do with a lack of love or respect. I am sure about that."

  "Yeah, me too," Dan murmurs softly. 

  "Besides, what happened to your nihilistic, nothing-happens-for-a-reason beliefs? I'm surprised you don't think this is just another weird blip in the universe."

  "It definitely could be," he shrugs, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

  "Hey, don't do that," Phil says, tapping at his mouth. "I don't want to end up with chapped lips like yours!" 

  "Wow, rude," Dan scoffs. "Good to know you don't like my lips."

  "Ugh, that's not what I meant."

  "I know. You love my lips."

  "I do, as a matter of fact," Phil says before leaning in and giving him a quick, chaste kiss. It's such a force of habit that neither of them realise the strangeness of it until half a second after it happens. 

  "...huh," Dan says. "That was... weird. I just kissed myself."

  "It wasn't _that_ weird, though," Phil says, sounding surprised. "It was almost like normal. Almost."

  "Yeah. That's what was so weird about it. Why do you think..." Dan trails off, eyebrows knitted together.

  "I don't know. Because it's still us, I guess. It's just us."

  "It's just us," Dan repeats.

.

  Around noon, they decide they need to take some time off. Dan makes some calls and cancels their meetings for the next few days, and he does it all as Phil. He tries to imitate the way Phil speaks to strangers and acquaintances on the phone, voice pitched a little higher than usual, overly pleasant. Phil is shaking with silent laughter, and breaks out into delighted giggles as soon as he hangs up the phone. 

  "I do not talk like that," he claims as he catches his breath.

  "Well, not _normally_ ," Dan says. "I was trying to do your phone voice."

  "My phone voice?"

  "Yes! The way you talk to people on the phone!"

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Phil says with a blank face. Dan narrows his eyes. 

  "Are you trolling me? You are, aren't you?" Phil starts to really laugh. "You fucking-" Dan moves to grope at Phil's side, tickling him. Phil curls in on himself, shouting through laughs, and swaying dangerously close to the corner of the kitchen counter.

  "Hey, if I hit the counter, you're going to have to deal with the bruise! If I hit the counter, you're going to bruise!" It's a convincing argument, and Dan pulls back, surrendering with his hands in the air. He realises his mistake a second too late when Phil darts forward and begins tickling at his ribcage.

  They spend the better part of ten minutes chasing each other around the apartment before collapsing onto the sofa, breathless and still laughing. "Mario?" Phil asks. Dan nods.

  "Let's do it." 

.

  The afternoon seems to both last forever and pass by in minutes. After a few rounds of Mario Kart (during which they discover that Dan is worse than usual while playing with Phil's hands, but Phil is just about as average as always) and a big lunch (during which Phil tried a bite of cheese and decided he still hated it with Dan's taste buds- "It's a texture thing!") they each take showers. It's the first time they've been at all apart from each other since they woke up, and it makes Dan feel uneasy. Not only is he not in his body, he's not even _with_ his body. He showers quickly, nearly forgetting to use Phil's colour-safe shampoo. 

  "Did you moisturize?" Phil asks him when he steps back into the lounge.

  "Uh, no," Dan says, sprawling across the couch. 

  "You have to moisturize or you'll get a weird dry spot between your eyebrows." Dan grunts in response. The idea of getting back up and going to the bathroom to rub some cream on his face feels exhausting. Phil sighs and gets to his feet, disappearing into the bathroom. When he returns, he's carrying a white tube.

  "Are you serious?" Dan asks. Phil grins, squirting what looks to Dan like an excessive amount of moisturizer onto his index and middle finger.

  "You'll thank me," he says, gently rubbing it onto Dan's face. It's cold, but it feels nice. Dan relaxes into the couch. 

  "Mmm," he shuts his eyes and hums without thinking. 

  "Enjoying yourself?" Phil asks, amused.

  "Yes," he admits. "Why don't you do this for me normally?"

  "You want me to start moisturizing you?" Phil has finished now, and Dan opens his eyes when he hears the lid click shut.

  "Yes, please." 

  " _Moisturize me_ ," Phil says in a funny voice, eyes wide. 

  "Shut up," Dan says, snorting. Phils face softens into an expression that he recognises. 

  "Dan, I will moisturize you every day of our lives if you want me to."  

  "Deal," Dan says, smiling at his boyfriend. 

.

  They're laying in bed, face to face, inches apart. The sun set some hours ago and Phil is struggling to keep his eyes open. 

  "You can sleep, baby. It's okay," Dan says, running a hand lazily up and down Phil's side. 

  "No," Phil mumbles. "You'll start thinking too hard if I'm not awake to stop you."

  "I'm already thinking too hard."

  "What are you thinking about?" Phil asks, looking more alert.

  "What's going to happen when we wake up tomorrow, and the next day, and we're still stuck like this? Are we going to have to pretend to be each other? Forever?" Dan knows his eyebrows are furrowed in the way that gives him headaches and he wonders for a brief moment what it looks like on Phil's face. 

  "Maybe we can quit our jobs and move somewhere no one recognizes us. That wouldn't be terrible," Phil says, grabbing at Dan's hand and holding it to his chest, stroking gently with his thumb.

  "Is this you trying to reassure me?" Dan snorts. Phil just smiles. It makes his face look beautiful. "Fuck. You're so gorgeous," Dan says.

  "Wow, Narcissus," Phil laughs. 

  "No, I mean. The way you make me look- I never look like that when I'm me."

  "Excuse me?"

  "My face looks beautiful on you. Does that make sense?"

  "Your face always looks beautiful, Dan. You have a beautiful face," Phil says. Dan rolls his eyes and smiles. "Stop, I'm serious. This isn't me trying to make you feel better or complimenting you because you're sad. You're like... an objectively beautiful person. Looks-wise." 

  "Beauty is subjective," Dan says faintly, not sure why he feels the need to push back on Phil's praise. Phil narrows his eyes.

  "Okay. But right now, looking at me, you think I'm beautiful. In your subjective opinion, this face is beautiful." Dan gives a short nod in response, squeezing his eyes shut. "Look at me, Dan. Look at your face." It's too much. He can't. "Okay," Phil murmurs, taking the hand he has clasped in his own and placing it on his cheek. "Do you feel how soft your skin is? I love that about you." He moves Dan's hand down, pressing it flat against his stomach. "You're strong and firm and soft and warm." He moves Dan's hand to his hip. "Do you understand why I am so attracted to you?"

  "Because of my sparkling personality?" Dan jokes with a thick voice, finally meeting Phil's gaze.

  "Well, yeah. But also because your body is fucking gorgeous. I love these hips. I love these thighs. I love every inch of you. I love you down to your bones, into your soul." Dan is openly crying now. Looking at Phil, it's like he's seeing himself for the first time. The way his body is sculpted, the way his hair falls, the way his eyes can soft and still pierce through a person. It's beautiful. Phil leans forward and kisses his cheek, then his lips, and his entire world shifts.

  It often feels like that when he's kissing Phil. Like he's falling. The first few months they dated, Dan thought he was constantly in danger of passing out. It's a given at this point; Phil's kisses make him weak in the knees. So it takes a couple of seconds for him to realise that, in this moment, his world shifting is not a cheesy metaphorical feeling but an actual reality. 

  "Oh, shit," he says, sitting up in shock, looking at his wide-eyed boyfriend, and then down at himself. His own body, his big hands, his long legs. He's never felt more like himself. 

  Phil begins to laugh, relieved. He reaches up and meets Dan in another kiss, and another, and another. Dan can hear him mumbling between kisses. _Love you. Love you. Gorgeous. Sexy. Love._ Phil's cheeks are still wet from Dan's tears but his smile is wide. 

  "Thank you," Dan whispers.

.

  They lay in bed through the next morning, making love and laughing together. Dan has always loved sex with Phil. It was good from the very start, when they were still a little clumsy and unsure. Still, years later, their sex has never been boring or monotonous. Everything Phil does with him feels like heaven. His legs are shaking and he is lying spread-eagle, exhausted, when he catches sight of their reflection in the mirror. He watches as Phil presses a kiss to his trembling thighs, and what he sees is beautiful. 

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog](https://boxingphil.tumblr.com/post/181473657641/gorgeous) if you want <3


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